


I an not what you think I do

by damedeleslac



Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar
Genre: Con Artists, Gen, Hurt Neal, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damedeleslac/pseuds/damedeleslac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there are good guys, who are also bad guys. For the whump-a-palooza at whitecollarhc on livejournal</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

  
~~~~  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc belong to their respective creators, etc. I am only playing.

  
~~~~

* * *

  
~~~~  
~~~~

I am not what you think I do.

  
~~~~  
~~~~  
~~~~*  
 ~~~~

Neal leaned against the elevator wall, eyes closed, keeping his breathing; if not as deep as usual, steady.  
The cut on his face was easy to explain away.  
 _Bugsy escaping from June or Cindy and nipping at his ankles while he was shaving._  
The bruise close to his left eye is carefully hidden by some hard earned make-up artistry.  
As for his other injuries...  
Bruised ribs, a twisted ankle, the scrapes on his fore arms, an almost black bruise on his back, the cut down his right thigh.  
Byron's suits concealed more than a number of pockets, more than any honest suit should have.  
The elevator came to a stop, the bell pinged and Neal's eyes opened just as the doors did.  
 ~~~~

*  
 ~~~~  
He knew the con.  
How to blend in and stand out simultaneously.  
How to leave a conversation and a room without being noticed.  
How to make it seem like he'd been part of a room and the conversation for hours, instead of minutes or even seconds.  
 ~~~~

*  
 ~~~~  
Everything ached in time with his heartbeat.  
 ~~~~

*  
 ~~~~  
A cheerful flirty smile.  
A flip of his hat.  
Sitting at his desk, a leg crossed over the other in a way that makes some agents wonder,  
 _Is he or isn't he?_  
No one seeing.  
No one noticing.  
No one asking.  
 ~~~~

*  
 ~~~~  
Peter dropping a pile of reports on his desk.  
A 'Good job on these'.  
A hard slap on his back.  
Another cheerful, but not quite respectful smirk.  
A friendly grimace at the next stack of files to write reports for.  
Ignoring the pain that shoots down his back and wraps around his ribs and has him wanting to throw up and pass out.  
Or possibly pass out, and then throw up.  
Or pass out while throwing up.  
 _Waiting for the bathroom to be clear before doing the throwing up part._  
 ~~~~

*  
 ~~~~  
A joke while (not) eating lunch, that makes everyone laugh.  
 _Diversion._  
A quick touch up of the makeup.  
 _Camouflage._  
A question about Martha's baby shower before anyone realises how little he'd eaten.  
 _Misdirection._  
A trip to the file room to catch his breath, take the weight off of his ankle, to lean over and hug his ribs.  
 _Fall back to a recovery position._  
Swapping a few files around...  
 _A reason to get sent home early?_  
 ~~~~

*  
 ~~~~  
Mozzie gives his hobbyist’s opinion of the ribs, before checking the stitches he'd done in the very early hours of the morning.  
June stands by to provide bandages and heat packs and advice, as if she knows every trick in the book.  
 _As if she wrote the book and still has a few chapters hidden away somewhere._  
And Cindy taking it all in and wanting to know when her turn out in the world will be, despite her grandmother's protests and evidence of some of the lesser consequences right in front of her.

*  
 ~~~~  
Then a trick to unlock the anklet without it alerting the Marshalls.  
Mozzie reluctantly agreeing to occasionally shift the tracking device during the night.  
And Neal's gone.  
No capes, no tights, no cowls  
And definitely no voice in his ear.  
Just a zip line, the city and the night.  
 ~~~~  
 ~~~~*

 

  
~~~~  
~~~~  
~~~~  
The end. ~~~~

~~~~  
~~~~  
~~~~

 

 

* * *

 

~~~~  
~~~~  
Thank you to TattooedLibrarian for betaing.  
 ~~~~  
 ~~~~  
 ~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

 

Disclaimer: All characters, etc belong to their respective creators, etc. I am only playing.

 

* * *

 

 

What Sort of Conman Are You?

*

Bruce Wayne reminds Diana of Neal, Or Neal reminds her of Bruce Wayne. She’s not sure which.

They’re of a similar height with dark hair. Wayne is broader across the shoulders, but Neal is younger. They’re both appreciative of the very fine things in life, though Neal is not so indulging.

Which is one of the things Diana will admit to liking about the supposedly former conman.

And something she wishes she didn’t have to be in the same room as when Wayne was.

But the low key; except for Wayne’s presence, fundraiser – to set up sister clinics in New York with the ones run by Leslie Thompkins in Gotham and organise interns and medical students to gain some practical experience in both cities – is Christie’s baby.

It’s too important to her and Leslie (who reminds Diana of June and Charlie) for Diana to get annoyed at a society drunk, especially when that drunk is the fundraiser’s primary (and most generous) benefactor.

*

 But there’s still something about him that makes her think her of Neal.

*

  It’s not until the end of the night, when almost everyone’s gone, when Diana realises what it is.

She’s learning to see the signs of when Neal does it.

When he smiles as if everything’s fine. Like Kate’s still alive and he doesn’t have a tracker around his ankle and a two mile radius and he’s about to pull the biggest con of the century. Sometimes it’s an act, sometimes it’s practice, mostly it’s because he’s been doing it for so long he’s not sure how to stop, that he hasn’t stopped.

*

She’s been watching the same smile on Wayne’s face all night.

There’s a vase in the corner where Wayne’s been lurking, that Diana’s beginning to suspect contains rather a lot of champagne.

*

It’s also the unrepentant, but also vaguely contrite look on Wayne’s face, after Leslie has poked him in the ribs, when, for a moment his face is white and he can’t seem to catch his breath.

And the look on Leslie’s is one of concerned, resigned maternal affection, combined with the ‘Why do I even bother, you never listen’ roll of her eyes.

Diana’s seen both looks before.

Wayne’s on Neal.

Leslie’s on June, but more often on Mozzie and Peter.

When Neal’s gotten hurt, doing something stupid (and right), and doesn’t want to anyone to worry about him.

*

It makes Diana wonder what sort of conman Bruce Wayne is.

*


	3. Unexpected Information

 

 

Unexpected Information.

 

:::

 

Clinton watched Neal a little more closely.

The conman turned CI had somehow managed to stay at the edges of the case all day. And now, near the end of it, he was just beginning to see why.Make-up; Clinton guesses, it just another type of paint and Neal's wearing just enough of it (in just the right way), to make the black eye (extremely obvious now) look like shadows from a sleepless night.

Which makes today's slight clumsiness, the carefully composed almost falling asleep at his desk and the not so artful absent mindedness seem like another long night with little to no sleep.What Clinton is ashamed to admit he's only now beginning to see, is what might be a wrenched knee, hopefully only bruised ribs and possibly a concussion.

Clinton knows that Neal had called Peter to ask for the day, the morning at least, off, but Peter had insisted he be at the office.

And that Neal would have pushed the matter if he could have made a future case out of his injuries , with a bad guy to blame everything on.

His silence puts Clinton on edge.

What ever Neal's gotten himself into is either personal or a little more illegal than he can charm his way out of. The little guy will be involved and probably Neal's landlady as well. He really hopes that they've kept Elizabeth Burke out of what ever it is this time. And that it doesn't become the FBI's (specifically the White Collar division's) problem.

 

:::

 

But it doesn't stop him from offering Neal a lift home at the end of the day.

Or helping him up the stairs to his room, because at that point, Neal's pretty much out of it and June clearly isn't capable of doing it all by herself.

He really doesn't like the way the granddaughter; Cindy, trails behind them, keeping her head down and holding her left arm close and steady against her ribs, with her shoulders hunched up around her ears.

Together Clinton and June get Neal out of his suit and into bed, June wiping the make-up from his face.

The bump on the back of Neal's head resembles a goose's egg, the bruises around his eyes; a preview of the ones nearly covering his torso and legs, almost black against the pale of his skin.

 

:::

 

"Cindy's ex-boyfriend," June murmured angrily, "Neal stopped him from using her as a punching bag. Gave the creep matching black eyes and a bruised ego. He brought some friends with him the other night, made some threats. I wanted to call Peter, but Neal said he could take care of it."

June's voice, her whole body shakes; angry and upset, and Clinton hugs her until she lets him go.

"Eight against one... Neal looking like this and most of what I feel is relief that he didn't let them do it to Cindy."

"He probably feels the same way." Clinton can see at least three different types of shoe prints in the bruises, the outline of something with a rounded surface and a fence-like mesh pattern, "Must have been one-sided a fight."

"They're MMA wannabes," Cindy says from the doorway, "Cage fights, unsanctioned stuff. They post the fights they win on the internet."

She finally looked up. fading bruises across her face. "They posted it live, thought it would be an easy win."

"Neal won?" Clinton looked from Cindy to Neal's injuries.

"Yeah," Cindy nodded, dropping a flash drive onto the nearest flat surface, "See for yourself."

 

:::

 

Clinton watches the video, eventually.

He's already called Peter and given him a bare bones explanation, he barely needs to mention Cindy and abusive ex-boyfriend to get Neal all the time he needs to recover.

 

:::

 

Clinton presses stop after the first and second punches to Neal's face, the second kick to his ribs and the first, third and fourth times the small but enthusiastic audience cheers.

The beginning is only a fight in the most loosest of terms, a beating is more accurate. Up to a point.

Clinton knows that Neal can box and fence and it's probably not incorrect to say that he's picked up a few defensive moves along the way.

This is all offence. Neal puts down three of his attackers before the other five realise he's done it. The next two don't go down as easily, but it's still a lot easier and quicker than Clinton had expected, especially considering the beating Neal had received minutes before.

It's also familiar; stylistically, in ways that Clinton would really rather not think about.

The video ends before the fight does, cutting off as the camera hits the floor.

He watches it all the way through five times, to be sure of what he's seeing, to figure out what to do... He crops some of the stills, close enough to keep Neal out of frame, but wide enough make out the faces and the place. He'll send them to a friend in the NYPD who deals with illegal fights in a couple of weeks.

And it seems (after a few hours of searching the internet and only finding where the footage should be) like he might have one of the only copies left.

The flash drive sits in his safe for a month; long enough for Neal to start giving him nervous looks, before he deletes the contents and re-formats the drive.

This is not something anyone else needs to know that Neal is capable of.

And Clinton intends to keep it that way.

 

 


	4. The Gods of Thieves and Conmen are Fickle and Unkind.

 

Four  - The Gods of Thieves and Conmen are Fickle and Unkind. 

 

 

Mozzie prefers to admire Selina Kyle the same way he admires a volcano. 

_From_ _a considerable distance and with not a small amount of fear and awe._

So when she appears at Neal's, wearing a necklace so hot he's surprised she hasn't melted away, Mozzie makes himself disappear while June hugs her like she's the prodigal niece returned.  

(And completely misses how Selina tuts at Neal with a - frighteningly - maternal look in her eyes, asking if he's done playing with the FBI yet?)

But  _Saturday Afternoon_ is calming and secure in a 'lead-lined bunker with enough supplies for 3 or 4 months' sort of way. 

(And if  _Saturday Afternoon_ ~~~~actually is a lead-lined bunker, then that's between the thief and his gods.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Evidence of the Past.

 

 

Evidence of the Past.

 

 

Neal gets his first scar when he's two, running through the house and stumbling, falling on a stray screw.

It hurts, it bleeds and he doesn't stop crying until his dad gets home and manages to calm him down. He gets a couple of bandaids over the cut and mostly forgets about it, until he's six and asks his mother about the thin line on his left knee.

When he's thirty, he can only see the scar in certain lights.

*

His next scars, Neal gets at the circus. He's Nile there and is learning how to be an acrobat, like his cousins (though the magician and the sword swallower are just as interesting).

He's good, really good.

He could be the best the Flying Graysons have ever had, but he's also young and still learning and his mother turns white with worry every time he reaches for the ladder. So when he falls (as all acrobats do), and breaks his arm in three places (the radial sticking through the skin in two), she takes him away as fast as she can.

Back to St Louis (and the Marshals, he learns later), and all Danny Brooks has of being Nile are a pair of jagged scars on his right forearm.

*

The next is when he's thirteen, and his appendix bursts in the middle of history class, the surgeon (in his haste) is not as careful as he could have been, but there are times when fast is more important then neat.

When he gets back to school, Neal (Danny) has the best scar to show off and a 'I nearly died' story that gets more and more elaborate every time he tells it. Which is for about three days, before he gets dragged off to Gotham in the middle of the night.

*

He can't remember what the fight's about.

It might have been important.

It was probably about something incredibly stupid.

But Dick ends up with a pair of black eyes, a fractured cheekbone, and Neal, a few loose teeth and a cut on the inside of his mouth that doesn't seem to want to stop bleeding. The trip to Dr Thompkins is preceded be Neal's mother yelling at Bruce and Alfred for teaching the boys how to box bare handed.

*

The anklet rubs at the fabric of his socks (he has to replace them twice as fast as he normally would) and at the skin of his leg. The first one weighs more on one side, so the scars are diagonally matched - the bottom of the electronics to the top of the band.

When Wayne Industries starts making their own monitoring devices, they're lighter, the weight more evenly distributed, and have less sharp edges.

*

Sara doesn't ask Neal about the small round scar on his abdomen, nor about the slightly larger one on his back.

She traces the shape of them when he's asleep and lines them up. Entry to exit.

She doesn't ask, because she doesn't want to know.

*

It hurts, well, like a bitch (and has ruined another of Byron's shirts, though the suit might be salvageable). Diana wincing with him as the doctor started the next stitch.

"Why'd you get ER duty?" Neal asked, distracting her. He'd had stitches before, most likely have them again, and Diana was starting to look distressingly greenish.

"Huh?"

"Normally Peter's here, or he sends Jones and a probie," He grinned, extra charmingly, "Jones always says if I escape, he's blaming the new guy." "You got stabbed." Her attention's on his face instead of the needle and thread, and looking a lot less like she was about to throw up, "He wanted to make sure Wratten got processed properly."

"Technically, I think it's a cut. Stabs tend to be a bit more direct." Neal made a stabbing motion, from where Diana was standing it probably looked like he was stabbing the doctor; who was doing a good job of ignoring them, in the eye.

Diana swallowed an inappropriate laugh and half heartedly rolled her eyes. "Don't make me cuff you."

"Do you think it'll scar?"

"It will add to your mystique."

"I'm sensing some sarcasm, Agent Barrigan."

"Don't make me shoot you."

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

Evidence of the Past.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Neal gets his first scar when he's two, running through the house and stumbling, falling on a stray screw. It hurts, it bleeds and he doesn't stop crying until his dad gets home and manages to calm him down.  
He gets a couple of bandaids over the cut and mostly forgets about it, until he's six and asks his mother about the thin line on his left knee. When he's thirty, he can only see the scar in certain lights.

  
*

  
His next scars, Neal gets at the circus. He's _Nile_ there and is learning how to be an acrobat, like his cousins (though the magician and the sword swallower are just as interesting).  
He's good, really good.   
He could be the best the _Flying Graysons_ have ever had, but he's also young and still learning and his mother turns white with worry every time he reaches for the ladder.  
So when he falls (as all acrobats do), and breaks his arm in three places (the radial sticking through the skin in two), she takes him away as fast as she can. Back to St Louis (and the Marshals, he learns later), and all _Danny Brooks_ has of being _Nile_ are a pair of jagged scars on his right forearm. 

 

*

  
The next is when he's thirteen, and his appendix bursts in the middle of history class, the surgeon (in his haste) is not as careful as he could have been, but there are times when fast is more important then neat.

When he gets back to school, Neal (Danny) has the best scar to show off and a 'I nearly died' story that gets more and more elaborate every time he tells it.  
Which is for about three days, before he gets dragged off to Gotham in the middle of the night.

 

*

  
He can't remember what the fight's about. It might have been important. It was probably about something incredibly stupid.  
But Dick ends up with a pair of black eyes, a fractured cheekbone, and Neal, a few loose teeth and a cut on the inside of his mouth that doesn't seem to want to stop bleeding.  
The trip to Dr Thompkins is preceded be Neal's mother yelling at Bruce and Alfred for teaching the boys how to box bare handed.

 

*

  
The anklet rubs at the fabric of his socks (he has to replace them twice as fast as he normally would) and at the skin of his leg. The first one weighs more on one side, so the scars are diagonally matched - the bottom of the electronics to the top of the band.  
When Wayne Industries starts making their own monitoring devices, they're lighter, the weight more evenly distributed, and have less sharp edges.

 

*

  
Sara doesn't ask Neal about the small round scar on his abdomen, nor about the slightly larger one on his back. She traces the shape of them when he's asleep and lines them up. Entry to exit.  
She doesn't ask, because she doesn't want to know.

 

*

  
It hurts, well, like a bitch (and has ruined another of Byron's shirts, though the suit might be salvageable). Diana wincing with him as the doctor started the next stitch.  
"Why'd you get ER duty?" Neal asked, distracting her. He'd had stitches before, most likely have them again, and Diana was starting to look distressingly greenish.  
"Huh?"  
"Normally Peter's here, or he sends Jones and a probie," He grinned, extra charmingly, "Jones always says if I escape, he's blaming the new guy."  
"You got stabbed." Her attention's on his face instead of the needle and thread, and looking a lot less like she was about to throw up, "He wanted to make sure Wratten got processed properly."  
"Technically, I think it's a cut. Stabs tend to be a bit more direct." Neal made a stabbing motion, from where Diana was standing it probably looked like he was stabbing the doctor; who was doing a good job of ignoring them, in the eye.  
Diana swallowed an inappropriate laugh and half heartedly rolled her eyes. "Don't make me cuff you."  
"Do you think it'll scar?"  
"It will add to your mystique."  
"I'm sensing some sarcasm, Agent Barrigan."  
"Don't make me shoot you."

 

 

* * *

 


End file.
